


The visions we share, the pain they bring.

by Dissapointed_weirdo



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 12 chapters?, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky's arm is advanced as FUCK, But not for hydra, Fluff and Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mild Smut, Natasha fucking knows everything, Nick fury gets all the good coffee, Poor Scott, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Secret Identity, Slow Burn, bucky is an assassin, kind of undercover, no beta we die like men, phil and maria are badass, steve is pretty horny, steve is so fucking in love lmfao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:55:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25245745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dissapointed_weirdo/pseuds/Dissapointed_weirdo
Summary: The White Wolf, the most ruthless assassin alive.The man who is the embodiment of fear, is the epitome of terror, and can inflict pain of the most severe kind.The scariest part? No one has ever seen his face before, some people say he's got a face that would make Medusa her self look like a greek goddess, whilst others say he's the most gorgeous man who's ever lived.When SHIELD agent Steve Rogers gets his newest assignment, all hell breaks loose. With no evidence regarding the White Wolf, he fears he's hit rock bottom.But then he meets Bucky Barnes, the scarily intelligent, snarky, kind and unfairly beautiful man, who seems to make his life just a little more tolerable.Steve has no business falling so hard and fast.OR: Bucky is the White Wolf, SHIELD is in danger and Steve is one horny agent.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
Comments: 12
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

Steve stared at the black sludge in his cup, mouth curling in disgust.

"How does Fury have the audacity to call this coffee?"

"Man up Rogers, you've had worse." Sam quipped.

He swiveled his office chair around and gave Sam a glare. "You can't seriously tell me you _like_ this shit?"

"Who said anything about liking?" He grinned smugly. "I love it." He tilted his own mug, showing Steve a glorious, thick-bodied coffee.

He leapt out of his chair and greedily snatched the cup from Sam's hands, deeply inhaling the drink before downing it completely. When he was done he turned around and what greeted him was Sam's outraged face, the sight was so comical Steve had to bite back a grin.

"Oh, that's how it is?"

He smirked. "That's how it is."

Before Sam could say anything else, he was interrupted by a booming voice.

**"All agents immediately proceed to join Director Fury for mission assignments!"**

Both Sam and he gave each other curious looks, before making their way to Fury's office.

Well, this better be good.

***

The room was eerily quiet, the silence almost broken by Steve's small groan as the rich smell of coffee filled his nose. _Why did everyone else get the good stuff?_ He thought grumpily, planting himself in the seat between Sam and Natasha. The redhead giggled softly at his angry pout, and Steve swatted her arm in annoyance. Sitting in front of them was the Director himself, wearing his usual all-black attire; accompanied by his normal stoic expression. His one eye studied them all harshly, and despite all his years working at SHIELD, Steve never got used to the Fury stare. The only one who seemed to never crack under his scrutinous gaze was Romanoff, always glaring back at him fiercely.

On either side of the Director were agents Maria Hill and Phil Coulson. The two were some of the best in all of SHIELD, and it didn't take Steve long to figure out why: Maria was extremely hard working, tough-minded and excelled in hand-to-hand combat. Phil was intelligent, highly adaptable and cool-headed. In spite of their daunting reputations, both were kind and empathetic; some of the best friends Steve's ever had.

"Problem there, Mr. Lang?" Maria asked, raising a perfectly manicured brow.

Scott stopped fumbling with his chair, looking a like a deer caught in headlights. "Uh, no Commander Hill-ma'am, no problem at all."

As if on cue, Scott's chair tilted dangerously, and he fell flat on the smooth concrete floor.

"Idiot, get up." Hope said roughly, but the jab was softened by the small smile on her face. The two of them were the newest agents, both of them complete polar opposites. Scott was endearingly childlike, excited by every little thing. Hope was far more competent and professional, but together the pair worked surprisingly well.

"Ahem", Phil cleared his throat, and Steve saw the carefully hidden grin on the other man's face. "Back to why we're here."

Fury nodded gravely. The man never, ever showed fear, but the trepidation in his eye was blatantly obvious. Steve immediately tensed, he knew these meetings were for urgent matters, that alone made him apprehensive. But the idea of someone or something scaring the likes of Nick Fury? It was downright terrifying. Everyone seemed to still a little bit, faces tight with worry and caution. Except for Scott, who was still fiddling with his chair, hilariously oblivious to the matter at hand.

Tony was the first to speak, eyes glinting in irritation. "Alright I'll bite, what's got you all so worked up?"

Maria stared at him calmly. "An.. assassin has been wreaking havoc all over Europe."

If Tony looked annoyed before, it was nothing compared to the expression he had on now. "An assassin? That's it?" He sighed dramatically; a hand clutching his chest, "Hillie, I expected more from you."

Maria managed to keep her face placid, But Steve could practically hear her gritting her teeth.

"Not just any assassin Stark", Fury interrupted. "The White Wolf."

Scott fell off his chair again.

***

After enduring an extremely long lecture on the White Wolf (graciously given by Phil) Steve had let his nerves kick in. Like most SHIELD agents he was taught never to show fear when with the enemy. But when the enemy also _happened_ to be the most ruthless killer, alive your best options were to run, hide, or hope for a quick death. All things the White Wolf never allowed.

"- 3 nights ago a source informed the Director, Coulson and myself that the assassin was now in New York." Maria paused and a picture appeared on the large screen. It was a man, his body a bloody pulp, chest peppered with bullet wounds.

"That source is now dead. He was an agent of ours, Jasper Sitwell. It would seem strange for the assassin to go for such a man, because thanks to Coulson's.. _informative_ monologue." Steve snorted at Phil's scowl. "We know that most of the White Wolf's targets are World leaders and famous politicians."

"So the question is", Fury interluded. "What game is he playing at? And what will be his next move?"

Clint snorted. "Yeah, good luck with finding the answer to that. This guy is a fucking master, how the hell are we going to go after him?"

Fury's mouth quirked up. 

"Because I'm sending some of my best agents."

All eyes went directly to Hill and Coulson, but the two shook their heads in amusement.

"Steve Rogers."

He snapped his head up. _What?_

Sam cackled, clutching his stomache in laughter. "Oh Rogers, sucks to be you!"

Than he froze, a look of horror washing his face. "Did he say, _agents?"_

Phil grinned, eyes sparkling with delight. "And Sam Wilson."

Sam fell off his chair.

***

"When Coulson said I'd help, I didn't expect this much work." 

Steve chuckled at Sam's whining and reclined on his couch. "Well this isn't going to be a walk in the park, is it? There's a lot riding on this case."

"Yeah yeah, I know. But there's barely anything on this guy." Sam reasoned, plopping himself on the armchair

He wasn't wrong, the file Fury gave them was the thinnest Steve had seen in his entire life. In it were a few reported sightings of the assassin, the list of victims and a photograph. Despite it being blurred, Steve could still make out the muscular figure in tac gear, and tight black cargo pants that hugged strong thighs.

"So Rogers", Sam threw a wad of paper at him. "We gonna do some actual work or are you gonna keep ogling that picture? "

Steve felt his cheeks flush. "I'm _not_ ogling him."

"Oh please, you look at him the way Nat looks at me", he smirked. "Thirsty as hell."

Steve huffed in disbelief. "Fuck you, Wilson."

"Hmm", his friend said in contemplation. "From the way you were drooling over that photo, it's definitely not me you wanna fuck."

"Oh that's it, you're leaving."

Sam raised his hands in defeat. "Ok, if that's what you want." He sighed mockingly. "I guess I'll just take this freshly baked, cheesy, classic New York style pizza-"

"Wait!" Steve paused, clearing his throat in the hope of getting rid of that desperate tone. "You know, that was harsh of me Wilson, you can stay."

Sam grinned in triumph. The two decided to watch some show on Netflix, waiting for tomorrow to start their new case.

Steve was dreading it already.

***

"Play it again."

Steve could see Bruce's left eye twitch, and he almost felt guilty for asking.

The video showed the exact same man in the photo, wearing the same form-fitting tac gear. He took out at least 30 men in minutes, his metal arm punching, stabbing and slapping. Steve's eyebrows furrowed. Even though the assailant had a _metal arm_ , he figured the man could probably cause enough damage without it. Once all men were either dead or knocked out, the assassin walked towards the camera, his masked face glitched as he disabled it, and the screen went black again. But it felt strange, fake, even.

Sam aimed his wad of rolled paper at the bin, unintentionally hitting Bruce's twitching eye. "What I don't understand is why he just showed himself on camera? He could've done all this in the shadows like he usually does."

"He's trying to draw us out." Steve decided.

Bruce's eyes narrowed. "That's painfully obvious, but why? It seems incredibly idiotic ."

"Or incredibly smart", Steve said with realisation. "He knows we wouldn't be stupid enough to follow him, and he's betting we won't."

"So, you're saying he's actually hiding something there, taking a gamble? Do you know how crazy that sounds?"

He shrugged. "Not as crazy as Sam thinking Nat was checking him out."

Sam huffed in indignation. "She was too!"

"Yeah, you wish Wilson."

"Anyway", Bruce cut in. "I've got the address here, want to prove your theory?"

***

"Sam, please just shut up."

They had been bestfriends for years, but Steve would never get used to Sam's incessant ramblings. 

"I _told_ you Sam, I'm fine."

He was most definitely not fine. A week from tomorrow would mark 2 years since his mom had passed away, and just thinking about the anniversary brought an overwhelming amount of grief. Sarah Rogers was a force of nature, steely determination and the smarts to match. For a long time it was just them two against the world, a sickly little kid with an awful list of health problems and a single mother. His mom would work almost very single day, taking up extra nursing shifts so she could provide for the both of them. Then she had gotten terribly sick, cancer was a bitch, but his mother took it all with peace.

For someone who worked in a hospital for a large chunk of her life she absolutely hated the beds, and she decided to live out the few good months she had instead of years filled with meds and misery. It was heart-breaking, watching her body deteriorate as quick as it did, torture. She'd been so proud when he finished SHIELD academy, even more so when he became a high-ranking agent. Her smile when he told her the news, that beautiful, blinding smile was one of the few reasons he managed to get up every morning, willing to see another day.

Taking a small shuddery breaths he quickly wiped away the tears.

"Steve, I think we're here."

He pulled the car over, and the two of them walked towards the ship. Bruce had tracked the camera's feed from this port, and in it's dock was the Lemurian Star, where they had all seen the White Wolf go on his usual killing spree.

"Hey!" A bulky man shouted. "No tourists!"

"Don't get your draws in a twist", Sam shouted back, then both he and Steve flipped out their badges. 

"We're with SHIELD, and we were told there was an incident that happened on that ship?"

The man's eyes widened. "It was him alright, scared the shit out of me."

"Mind if we take a look around?" Sam asked.

"You guys are psychos", the man muttered

Steve grinned. He had no idea.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the kudos, here's the next chapter :))

Sam screwed his eyes shut, forefinger and thumb clasping the bridge of his nose.

"Just look for someone with a metal arm."

"Uh.. news flash, New York is full of people, am I supposed to ask every single person if they've seen an assassin with a metal arm?"

"Well you're the tech savvy one Stark, it can't be that hard to track someone."

"Oh, suddenly _I_ have to do everything?"

Steve was losing his mind.

It had only been 2 weeks since Sam and he started this case, and Stark had already taken it upon himself to help them. Help was too feeble of a word, no, it was more like antagonize.

Then again it was Tony they were talking about, this was practically all he ever did.

The three of them were lounging in Stark's obnoxious tower, and to Steve's relief it was Pepper that put him out of his misery.

"Tony, you've got a call."

"Later sweetie. I'm on a very important case."

"It's from King T'challa, he's interested in purchasing some equipment."

Those must've been magic words. Tony shot up from the couch and sprinted towards the other room.

Sam dropped himself on the velvet sofa ( _seriously Tony, velvet?)._ "Pepper Pots, you are a lifesaver."

She smiled, and gestured at the tablet in her hands. "Shall we get down to business?"

Steve never understood how Tony managed to snag one of the single most competent people he'd ever seen. Pepper worked with startling efficiency, always emulating professionalism wherever she was. Donned on her figure was a simple grey dress, her red hair pulled in a stylish bun. Then her fingers did a series of complex typing and swiping; soon there was a holographic image of the White Wolf in front of them.

He had never been more confused in his life. 

"How did you-what?"

Pepper laughed and then patiently explained. "Now we can analyse the material of his arm, find out who the manufacturers were, maybe even find out where he's from."

So all three of them set to work, carefully taking notes, studying the masked man. Whoever he was, Steve couldn't deny his physical attraction. 

But the White Wolf could be the death of him, both figuratively _and_ literally.

Fuck.

***

Coulson studied the updated file Sam and he gave him, his face blank as he scoured over their notes. 

"Is this all you came up with?"

Steve shifted his weight nervously, but gave him a firm nod.

"Yes sir."

Phil stared at them both for a few more seconds, then cracked a smile. "Very thorough, considering how short a time you two have been on the case."

"Sir", Sam started. "Rogers and I think this may call for a small investigation."

"Well that's understandable. I'll see to it that Agent May goes with you."

Sam raised his eyebrows and gave Steve a stricken look. "Do you think that's necessary?"

"Trust me, I know Melinda. She's probably bored out of her mind now, and this should be an easy stake-out." Then Phil sauntered away, presumably to go and collect said person. But why did Sam look so troubled? Why did he look like the world was going to perpetually end? Well, that was because of one simple reason:

Melinda May.

SHIELD was full of highly-trained operatives, all intimidating in their own right. But none scared Steve more than "the cavalry" herself. Agent May was a small woman of Asian descent. Beautiful but dangerous, and her glare was so unnerving it could rival Natasha's. Apart from a select few, the Director trusted her more than anyone else in the entire agency for reasons unknown . Steve knew better than to underestimate an agent, however they're size. Sam, on the other hand, took one look at May in the training room and immediately decided to spar with her first, "It's too easy", he claimed. "This is gonna be over before ya know it."

It was, with Melinda trapping Sam's neck in a seemingly unbreakable death grip. So it shouldn't have come as a surprise when that fateful day managed to scar Sam for life.

Moments later, both Phil and Agent May were now standing in front of them, and Melinda looked even more menacing than usual. She gazed at Steve, her mouth quirking up when she saw Sam.

"Rogers, Wilson."

They both nodded in acknowledgement.

"Steve and Sam, you update May on the mission. If it all goes to shit I'll be sure to send backup."

When Coulson ambled away again, Melinda smirked wolfishly.

"So who, apart from me, seems to be giving Sam a hard time?"

***

"Wait, _the_ White Wolf? As in the most infamous killer alive?"

The three of them were crammed in a SHIELD-issued 'cleaning' van, and heading towards one of the last remaining HYDRA bases. With Pepper's help earlier today, they managed to find out where the assassin got his metal arm installed. Hopefully they would learn more about his history, as well as a way to possibly track him down.

"Here's the plan", Steve gestured towards a blueprint of the base. "I'll stay in the van, while you two enter the building here", he pointed to a fence. "That's their weakest point. I'll track both of you on the computer, I'll see what you're seeing and listen to you guys on the coms, alright?"

May nodded, but Sam looked absolutely terrified, before gulping loudly and squeaking out a little, "Sure". Then they both stepped out the car, tightly holding their handguns.

A few minutes later both agents entered the base, and Steve saw the many HYDRA soldiers that stood watch. Damn, for the weakest point, it was heavily guarded.

"Ok", Steve heard Sam take deep breaths. "May, you go left, I'll go right-"

But Melinda was out of sight, the only sign of her ever being there were the sounds of guards groaning in pain, or their bodies thumping to the ground.

"Holy fuck-Steve, are you seeing this?"

He chuckled. "They don't call her the cavalry for nothing."

"All hostiles taken down." May tapped her coms.

"No shit", Sam muttered.

Steve directed them through the large hallways, with Melinda knocking out whoever stood in their way. Soon the agents were in a large room full of computers. Dust covered almost every inch of wall, and the cobwebs proved just how old it truly was. Strangely enough, there were paintings that decorated the other wise empty walls, and Steve could just barely make out who they were.

"Johann Schmidt, and Baron Von Strucker."

"And who the fuck are they?" Sam asked.

"Former heads and founders of HYDRA", May answered. "Both Nazis, who managed to create one of the largest threats the world has ever faced."

"Charming." Steve murmured. "Now, I want you to insert the USB I gave you. Hold out for as long as possible, and get as much information as you can."

Once the stick was inserted, Steve studied the entire room and base as intently and as quickly as possible. It was huge, obnoxious in the standard HYDRA fashion. But it was refreshing in a sense, seeing a room that wasn't covered in the recognizable octopus symbol. Judging from the various computers, it might've been a data center or lab of some kind. It seemed surprisingly easy to get into the base without triggering some kind of alarm. _Too_ easy.

Sam's eyebrows furrowed. "Uh, guys? What's that beeping sound?"

Steve managed to zoom in on the location of the noise. Multiple coloured wires intertwined with each other. A small box glowed in the dark, it's flashing numbers decreasing; Steve cursed loudly. Bombs.

"Wilson, May get out of there. The place is rigged to blow."

Melinda frowned in annoyance. "How much time do we got?"

"Um.." Steve checked the numbers.

"About 30 seconds."

More beeping sounds filled the once silent air, meaning the entire building would detonate. Steve fumbled with the radio, quickly calling for backup.

"Coulson? Coulson do you copy? This is Rogers, we're gonna need an extraction team ASAP."

"Copy that, on our way-"

Then the building exploded, and the last thing Steve saw was the fiery light that engulfed him.

***

Groaning, Steve groggily opened his eyes, the sound of vans rumbling through his sensitive ears. His mind was scattered, and all he could remember were the bombs-

"Steve, hey Steve? It's ok, you're ok." A female voice said.

"I-sorry", he paused as he turned around, and he felt a smile pull at his lips.

"Excited to see me, huh?" The woman chuckled.

"Bobbi." He gritted through his teeth. His smile was probably somewhere between furious and ecstatic. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"So this is the thanks I get for saving your ass?"

Steve faltered. "No! I mean-"

Bobbi laughed. "God Steve, I was joking!" Then she turned to face him fully, and opened her arms.

Steve practically collided into her embrace, his head in the crook of her neck; took shuddery breathes. He hadn't seen Bobbi in over 8 months, but to his relief she looked exactly like he'd remembered: honey blonde hair fell across her shoulders, cobalt blue eyes framed by golden lashes, and a small mole that sat in between her eyebrows. She was still achingly tall, figure clad in a leather suit.

"Did you just come back?" He asked, voice muffled as he spoke into her shoulder.

Steve felt her nod. "Belarus, been undercover there all this time. I missed you like hell."

He broke the hug to look at her, and gave Bobbi a watery smile. The happiness of seeing her again was short-lived when he realised Melinda and Sam weren't there. Bobbi must've noticed his alarmed expression, and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Wilson and May are getting medical attention. But don't worry," she quickly added. "Nothing too serious."

Once the van had pulled over to SHIELD headquarters, Bobbi and he got out and walked briskly towards the looming building.

"Ready for the debrief?"

Steve shrugged, hoping it would hide the fact that he wasn't.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

***

The mission report was held in Fury's office (shocker) with the Director wearing his usual scowl. Maria and Phil flanked his sides, staring at him expectantly.

Steve held up the USB May had, and inserted it into one of the computers.

"Agents May and Wilson managed to retrieve this from the fallen HYDRA base."

He paused, awkwardly waiting for the data to load up. 

On the large screen was essentially a design for the White Wolf's metal arm, complicated drawings, terms and scribblings sprawled everywhere. Next to the diagram was an incredibly detailed sketch of a man, and if it weren't for the burning gazes of the three behind him, Steve would probably spend days trying to replicate the drawing.

He mentally berated himself. Now is _not_ the time for ogling.

"I had minimal time to study it, however I believe that this will greatly help us track him down."

"That maybe so, Rogers." Fury gruffed out. "But how? Care to elaborate?"

Steve met the Director's glare head on. "I'll have Fitz-Simmons analyse it for further information. With this, we'll be able to know exactly how enhanced the White Wolf is, possibly be able to create weaponry to neutralize him."

He tried his best to not grin like an absolute dork when he saw the praising glint in their eyes, but once they'd dismissed him he allowed himself a small victory dance. After all of the testing and cross-examinations, all he had to do was track him down.

Track him down. Ok. Easy as pie.

Just come face-to-face with the most deadly assassin the world has ever known.

The weight of reality hit him like a truck, and he almost fell to the ground from the overwhelming fear gnawing at him.

Sam was right, it _did_ suck to be him.

***

"Unbelievable. I've never seen anything like it!"

Steve was now in one of SHIELD's many, many labs. Standing beside him in all their scientist glory were Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons, looking as though they might burst from pent-up excitement. Both were the youngest to ever graduate from the academy; with their genius-level intellect they became fast friends with Tony and Bruce, the four of them together like one big -incredibly intelligent- family.

Steve was a field agent, meaning he didn't know shit about biomechanics and other sciences. Right now the two were spewing words so complex Steve was positive he could feel an aneurysm coming.

"Oh, sorry there." Jemma stopped her ramblings. "It's just so intricately-"

"Structured", Leo finished. "You see these wires here? They're directly attached to his nervous system."

"So.." Steve started hesitantly. "Does that mean he can control it, like a normal arm?"

Leo beamed at him. "Exactly, which also means- wait, Jemma what does it mean?"

And the two of them went back to their long-winded conversations. Steve should've probably payed more attention to them, but he found his gaze drawn to that sketch again, the drawing was blurred and smudged, yet it somehow managed to make the mystery man even more captivating. His face was masked, tac gear hugging cords of tight muscle. Neutralizing the White Wolf would've been much easier if he wasn't so damn _attractive._

He was really starting to hate this job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please go ahead and tell me your thoughts on this chapter, kudos and comments brighten up my day:))  
> Thanks for reading!  
> Ps. I highly recommend watching Agents of SHIELD if you haven't already!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here ya go, next chapter:)))  
> And I know this might take a while but Bucky and Steve WILL meet. Slow burn guys, sloooow burn.

The Consulate loomed over Bucky as ran, the night of the New York sky making it look even more daunting. He pressed a hand on his throbbing leg, cursing when he saw blood.

In hindsight, he should of expected this to happen: taking on more than 30 guys with nothing but a knife would obviously come with consequences. But that was Bucky. Deadly because he was reckless, reckless because he was deadly.

The wind whipped his hair violently, causing him to blindly stumble across the streets, and he giggled at the irony of it all. The White Wolf, an ex-soviet assassin with over 20 kills in the last 16 months, was tripping over garbage cans.

The gash on his leg was now falling into the 'excruciatingly painful' category, making it even harder to walk straight. Bucky could hear the blaring sound of sirens, could see the flurry of bright blue lights, and forced himself to walk faster, gritting his teeth through the agony. Becca's apartment was only a few blocks away from here. He could do it.

The thrill of seeing his sister kept him going, albeit under surprising and bloody circumstances.

Bucky never hid his profession -if you can call killing a profession- from Becca, mainly because he couldn't. She was a walking bullshit detector. Of course she was a little mortified at first, but as soon as he'd explained why, it was proverbial water under the bridge. A strong gust of air blew strands of hair in his eyes, almost making him miss his sister's building. He went up the flights of stairs with a few winces, but finally made it to her door and rasped some knocks.

Bucky tried to make himself look somewhat presentable, but gave up when he realised that a) he was bleeding out in the hallway, and b) it was midnight. The sound of locks filled the otherwise silent air, and standing there, was his sister.

She looked somewhere between positively livid and happily surprised, her dark hair was unruly and matted. Deep bags were under her eyes, brows were furrowed and in her hand was the biggest bag of chips Bucky had ever seen.

"Buck... izzat you?"

"Who else has a metal arm Becs?" He huffed a laugh. "Can I come in?"

She sighed, and ushered him in. "You've got to stop meeting me like this-oof."

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and tucked his head in her neck. Hands immediately came to hug him back, and they stayed like that for a few seconds. None of them daring to speak.

"Oh Buck", Becca quietly sobbed. "God, I missed you."

"I know", he choked out. "I am so sorry Becs, I should of kept in contact-"

Becca broke the hug to cup his face. "Shush, you're here now, just shut up." She teased.

Bucky laughed wetly, diving back in to hug her.

"You have such a way with words."

He could practically hear the sound of her eyes rolling, and she gently swatted his arm.

"Bucky, you know I love you, but you're kinda bleeding in my living room."

"Oh shit." He completely forgot about the gash, smiling sheepishly at Becca.

"For fucks sake", she huffed, pointing to the couch. "Sit down, I'll clean it up for ya."

Bucky grinned. "You're the best."

She rolled her eyes again and smiled fondly.

"Yeah yeah, just sit your ass down."

***

"So tell me, who ended up dead on the White Wolf's hit list?"

Bucky whipped out a spoon, stealing a sizeable chunk of his sister's ice cream. "Why bother, it'll probably be on the news right about now."

Becca hummed in agreement. "You caused quite a scene this time Buck."

And that, was officially the biggest understatement of the century.

Bucky wasn't just any assassin, he didn't have handlers, or bosses, he wasn't hired muscle. Every kill was strategically planned and administered by him, and no one else.

People have made the White Wolf to be some crazed killer on the loose, hunting down all of humanity one by one; nothing could be farther from the truth. Bucky was a killer, yes, he'd done unspeakable things, _seen_ unspeakable things, but he never, ever killed without reason. His victims were usually very well known ambassadors, ministers etc, meaning he obviously nursed political ambitions of his own.

Point is, his targets essentially died of their own actions, not his. The so-called 'humanitarians' and 'peace advocates' were tied to numerous federal crimes: larceny, embezzlement, extortion, rape and murder. Bucky had mountains of evidence, but action needed to be taken quickly. Unless citizens wanted these politicians to continue to manipulate an already corrupted society.

It was dramatic, theatrical even. His life was one big action movie.

Except it wasn't.

Bucky always laughed when he saw thrillers, how unrealistic they were. The main character would go through a horrific ordeal and somehow managed to come out emotionally unscathed. 

Part of why Bucky does what he does is because of regret, failure. Becca and he were in Brooklyn finishing school at the time; the holidays were coming. Instead of going back to Indiana with the rest of his family, he decided on staying in New York, being diligent and studious. He got the news from his sister, hysterical screams filling the call, haunting him to this day.

_"Bucky? Bucky!"_

"Becs? What-are you ok?"

_"Mom and dad",_ she sobbed loudly. _"They're, oh god. They're dead Buck."_

It suddenly became to difficult to breathe, he felt like he was being sucker punched: violent and brutal.

"Dead?" He whispered. "No, no-they can't be."

Becca sniffed, choking out, _"Some burglar, he broke into the house."_ Her voice cracked.

_"He shot them Buck, again and again-"_

"No!" Bucky threw the phone to the floor, shrieking in agony.

He should've stayed with them, he should've gone to Indiana, he should've-

Protected them.

It was _he_ that deserved to die, not his parents.

That day hardened him, forcing him to see reality: the world was cruel and vicious. It would never change.

Bucky made it his mission in life, to at least try and prevent anyone else feeling that pain, that suffering. Becca kept trying to reassure him. _It wasn't your fault Buck, stop blaming yourself._

But he couldn't, could he? It was his fault, and everyday he made sure he reminded himself that his parents were killed because of him. And the pain never dulled, never lessened. It was as sharp and intense as the first day he heard the news.

He almost didn't go to the funeral, the shame and guilt so overwhelming he couldn't even walk at times. In the morning Bucky would wake up feeling hollow; incredibly numb. It was hard to find something to live for, and for a while he couldn't. Then he found evidence, documents, victims that were hurt just like him.

He made sure those who caused torment for their own gain got a taste of their own medicine. He snorted. More like an overdose.

Becca nudged his shoulder, nodding her head towards the TV.

**"Up next, High Commissioner Brock Rumlow has suddenly died, apparently induced by an abrupt heart attack. The death of Mr. Rumlow comes just 9 months after the passing of his close friend and colleague. The Secretary of State, Alexander Pierce."**

"What did those two do?"

Bucky shrugged. "The usual stuff: black mail, human trafficking."

Becca's face sneered in disgust.

And boy if Bucky didn't know the feeling.

***

Loud grunts and pants echoed in the sparring room. Becca's husband was a lovely man, and it didn't hurt that he was filthy rich. Robert was away on business, leaving the two siblings alone in the ostentatious apartment.

"Again."

Becca frowned, and whilst staring at her sweaty face Bucky was almost certain he was looking in a mirror. People always said his sister and he were the spitting images of each other, it seems they were right. Becca had the same disheveled curls and golden skin, a button nose and ice blue eyes. Eyes that were narrowing dangerously.

"What do you mean, 'again'?"

Bucky peeled off his sweaty shirt. "I mean that roundhouse kick needs to be sharper. You're holding back."

"I am not!"

"Becca, incase you've forgotten I'm an assassin. My name alone terrifies the shit out of anyone."

She huffed in disbelief. "Yet, you're still a pretentious asshole."

Bucky grinned and offered a hand to pull her from the floor. Becca grabbed it gratefully, just as she was standing up Bucky crouched down and whipped out leg. A swift kick and soon Becca was back on the ground, wincing as her butt smacked the floor.

"You let your guard down."

"You're a fucking prick Buck, ya know that?"

He snorted. "So I've been told. Come on, Gino's pizza. My treat."

She grunted in pain. Her scowl softened slightly at the sound of food.

"Damn right."

They began to tidy up and walked out of the training room.

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"Put a fucking shirt on, you look like a stripper."

***

When in public, walking around with a metal arm would be extremely conspicuous; attract too much attention.

And he'd probably be arrested on the spot.

A few years ago Bucky tracked down a congressman, Jack Rollins, in Wakanda. He was affiliated with HYDRA and numerous felonies, a man whose middle name was 'shady as fuck.' The arm was acting up at the time. A young African woman offered to update it, and whilst he was a little reluctant, she had done a fantastic job. His arm was lighter, stronger and more efficient. Even had a switch that would shroud it holographically, hiding the metal and making look like a normal flesh arm. He quickly flipped the switch and Becca and he walked towards the restaurant.

Salvatore Gino and his wife Alessandra were old family friends. A sweet, elderly couple that acted like second parents to them, and religiously pinched and kissed the cheeks of each customer. Bucky's face always tightened when she leaned forward with her hands raised. As if his cheeks had gone into traumatic shock.

"Bucky!" The familiar sound of Alessandra's voice warmed his heart. God how he missed her.

"Hey Mrs. Gino." He smiled, coming over to give her a hug, but yelped when she smacked his arm.

_"Really James?"_ Bucky winced at the sound of his formal name, in Italian no less. _"You come over for food, then leave the next day, gone for months without a word!"_

_"I'm sorry."_ He replied. _"I must have worried you to death-"_

Alessandra smacked his arm again. "Tesoro, never do that again. Do you understand?"

Bucky nodded his head. _"Si, mi dispiace."_

The old woman's eyes softened, then proceeded to pinch both his and Becca's cheeks with brutal strength. She walked towards the kitchen with renewed vigor, shouting excitedly in her mother tongue. Bucky grinned fondly as she pulled out her husband Salvatore, whose warm brown eyes widened in delight.

"Bucky my boy! _Bello verdeti!"_

_"Bello verdeti anche Mr. Gino."_ The old man presented his cheeks and Bucky immediately kissed each one.

"Oh good heavens children." Alessandra gently pushed them and ushered towards the leather couches. "Sit down! Food will be on it's way."

Then the Ginos made their way back to the kitchen, talking enthusiastically along the way. Bucky felt his eyes prickle. Apart from Becca and a few close friends, Salvatore and Alessandra were the closest he had to family. They always doted on the two of them, even more so when his parents were killed.

"So who's paying?"

Becca raised her brows. "If my memory serves me right, you are."

"No. I said and I quote, 'my treat'. How does that imply that I'm paying?"

"Nuh uh, you're paying and that's final."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

And the two of them continued to squabble, but Bucky couldn't hide his smile. He missed her, missed this.

There was no place he'd rather be.

***

"Fine, you can choose the movie."

Becca and he were in their pyjamas, surrounding them were a large assortment of cookies, chips and tubs of ice cream. It was practically a tradition at this point, the two Barnes siblings would always have a Disney marathon. To Bucky's horror, he managed to relate to every character on an unhealthy level.

In 'The Princess and the Frog' Tiana is constantly working, never stopping for a break or hang out with friends. _Bucky_ was so academically driven, so engrossed with his studies that he didn't even go back home with his own family. Much less have time for friends.

Whilst watching 'Alice in Wonderland' he ached for his innocent youth, creating wonderful crazy creatures and friends with his overactive imagination. Then he grew up, realized all those exciting stories he managed to concoct were just screams for help. Trying to escape the reality of the real world.

Between 'The Lion King', Bucky had to shove ungodly amounts of ice cream in his mouth in the hopes of hiding his sad whimpers. Even though he actually never saw his parents die, Mufasa's death was far too close to own life. Stupid Scar.

'Tarzan' was probably simultaneously the best and worst movie. Whilst staring at Tarzan's sweaty, impossibly ripped body, he was certain he had a second sexual awakening. Absolutely no one could pull of fur pelts that well. No one.

"I didn't ask buck, go thirst for Tarzan somewhere else."

They finished the marathon with the classic, 'Hercules'. Yes, the movie was great and all, and Hercules deciding on staying with Meg was tooth-rottingly sweet. But the soundtrack was the reason Bucky clapped his hands together like some circus seal. Gospel themed music with a bunch of pretty women of colour and a film that is historically inaccurate? Count him in.

Becca yawned and stretched her arms. "I'm beat. See ya tomorrow Buck."

"Night", he kissed her cheeks. As she went down the hallway he could vaguely hear her humming 'The circle of life'.

Bucky was always a bit of a night owl, so he scoured through the TV channels and thought _what the heck?_ Clicking on Fox news.

A man was standing there, a tall, black man dressed in dark clothing and a trench coat. As if he couldn't look even more ominous, an eyepatch sat opposite his right eye. He looked like a very scary, very well-dressed pirate.

**"The director of SHIELD, Nick Fury has voiced his thoughts on the numerous political deaths that have sadly occurred."**

Bucky huffed. _Sadly my ass._

He found himself watching the well-dressed pirate standing on a podium, obscene amounts of flashing cameras surrounding him, and for a moment there it looked like he was going to need another eyepatch.

After the chatter from reporters died down, the man spoke.

**"It is with deep sorrow, that I officially announce 8 of some of this country's finest politicians have passed."** He said, looking anything but sorrowful. 

**"Over the years SHIELD has complied an impressive amount of documentation, and it is with this infallible evidence that I also announce the killer, of America's government."**

The large room was dead silent. Not a single person talked, nor did any cameras flash. It was so intensely quiet that Bucky found himself leaning towards the television.

**"The White Wolf."**

Then the room erupted into chaos. Reporters lifted their microphones, a frenzy of questions being asked. Bucky gasped in mock shock and snorted at the Director's smug look. But he was proud of them for figuring it out, really. It only took them about 3 years.

**"Please, quiet down everybody."** The director raised his fingers to his mouth, letting out an ear-shrilling whistle. **"This is alarming news, but rest assured. I have some of my best agents working on the case."** Then he turned and pointedly stared down at two men.

One of them was a man of medium height, but powerfully built. A toothy smile was plastered on his face; the flashing lights doing wonders for his beautiful dark skin. Next to him was a man built like a small tank, and whilst the cameras were extremely blurred Bucky could still make out the stern but handsome features. His blonde hair was windswept, jacket visibly straining under those monster biceps. He looked like an extremely ripped boy-scout.

**"My men will do everything in their power to prevent the White Wolf from continuing this bloodthirsty rampage, and we will bring him to justice."**

Bucky should really stop watching. He didn't want to listen to whatever scheme they've created to put him down, it was terrifying.

But just like Meg from Hercules:

He always did have a thing for blondes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry yall, guess ya have to wait another week for the next chapter lmao.  
> A "Consulate" is essentially an embassy, or a building in which a country is represented in another: like the French embassy in Washington DC.  
> "Si mi dispiace"= im sorry.  
> "Tesoro"= sweetie.  
> "Bello verdeti"= so good to see you  
> "Bello verdeti anche"= good to see you too.  
> Please note that I am most definitely not Italian. I got all that from google translate lmao, so if any of you actually speak Italian, please let me know if it made any sense.  
> Thank you all for the comments and kudos!!


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